


at all costs

by heyimal_ex



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Forced kisses, Hurt Richie, Richie Angst, Richie-centric, eddies a good boyfriend, everyone cares about richie, its just patrick using richie, i’m not tagging this as patrick/richie bc it’s rly gross and not at all encouraged as a ship, no it chapter 2 spoilers!, non-con elements!, patrick takes advantage of richie, that isn’t ok w the losers, young losers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 09:35:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyimal_ex/pseuds/heyimal_ex
Summary: when patrick hockstetter approaches richie and offers him a deal, richie accepts almost immediately.he does whatever patrick wants and, in exchange, eddie and the rest of his friends stay safe.eddie isn’t okay with this deal, and has a few choice words.





	at all costs

**Author's Note:**

> half of this fic is written with proper grammar and the other half is written in all lower case, because i started this fic all the way back in 2017 and just finished it recently. sorry about that confusion!

•at all cost•

Richie knew, in his heart, that he would do anything to protect his friends. Eddie especially, all considering. If it ever came down to it, Richie wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to throw himself in front of whatever danger was threatening the shorter male, whatever would happen to him damned. 

Perhaps thats a good explanation as to why all of this even happened in the first place.

The day had started out normal. Richie had dragged himself out of bed to the loud screeching from his alarm clock, groaning and rubbing his watery and tired eyes. He blindly scrambled for his glasses, slipping them on after a minimal amount of struggle. With an exaggerated motion he threw off his thin covers, reminding himself to find a thicker blanket somehow before the winter really set in and the nights began brutal. ‘Stan would give you one in a heartbeat’ he thought, but shook his head at the thought. He didn’t like inconveniencing his friends. 

Soft feet padded down the stairs and slipped into the kitchen, arms reaching up to tug the box of cereal from its home in the cupboard. With a soft shake of the box, he quickly discovered that it was running low, and whispered a soft “fuck” out loud to himself. He really needed to run to the store. He didn’t want to waste the rest of the cereal in case someone came over and wanted it (by someone, he meant Bill) so he slipped it back without much thought. He ignored the growl his stomach protested with. 

Within a half an hour, he was sitting in front of his house, fingers twiddling idly with the hand of his bicycle. He glanced behind him at his small house, eyes trailing a bit towards the driveway. More so, how empty it was. His parents said they would be home a month ago, and still no sign of them. He wasn’t worried. They always did this. It was like they didn’t know they had a son.

It’s fine. Richie was used to it.

The boy was shaken from his thoughts at the screech of tires, glancing up and smiling when he saw Eddie peddling closer to him. Eddie returned the smile softly, hopping off his bike once he came closer and stopping in front of Richie. He got up on his tiptoes and gave the other a small good-morning kiss, Richie being unable to stop himself from smiling into it.

“Morning to you, too.” He joked once they pulled apart, absently reaching up and tucking a bit of the others hair out of face. 

He couldn’t stop the butterflies that eat around in his stomach - not that he really even wanted to. Eddie made him feel different - always had, always will. Not a bad different at all, a...warm different. A welcoming different. A ‘maybe I can actually be okay with being gay if it means I get to hold Eddie in my arms’ kind of different.

“You seem happy this morning.” Eddie remarked as they both got onto their bikes. He fumbled slightly for his inhaler before starting, taking a quick breath in before slipping it back. Richie shrugged in response, watching the action go down. 

“Well,” he said with a mischievous smile “after a full night with your mom, I think everyone would be pretty happy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shot his boyfriend a loving ‘shut the fuck up’ look. 

“Shut it, Trashmouth.” He said. The words held no venom at all. Richie smiled in response, clearly having no intention to actually stop anytime soon. 

With that, they took off for the school. 

The second they approached the building, Richie could feel that something was wrong. Deeply wrong. He had no idea what it was, and he had no idea why this feeling was going so deep, but it was enough to make his body immediately stop his bike. Eddie immediately did the same once he realized, giving Richie a weird and questioning look.

“Where are Bill and Stan?” Richie asked softly, looking at the bike rack. Sure enough, they were empty. Normally that’s okay, but Stan and Bill always got to the school a considerable amount of time before Eddie and Richie, so it was a little peculiar. 

Eddie shrugged. “They’re probably just late.” He walked his bike over to the racks, setting his own up and waving for Richie to do the same. The taller of the two shook himself out of his trance and walked over, clicking the lock into place and securing his transportation. 

He glanced down at his watch, eyebrows scrunching. “We’re also a little late today. First period hasn’t started yet but pretty much everyone is inside. They’re probably just inside, we should get in there too-”  
It was clear from the look on Richie’s face that he wasn’t paying any attention at all. 

“Come here.” Richie murmured softly, earning yet another confused glance from Eddie. He complied, though - bless his trust - and walked over to where Richie was, his head peaked out from around the corner. He let out a soft gasp when he saw it, and the loud-mouthed boy immediately felt anger spurring from within him. 

“Stay here.” He told Eddie, taking a few steps towards the bullies that currently had Bill pinned against the wall,  
Stan being held back from the entire ordeal by one of the others. As he got closer, he immediately recognized faces (although, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who it was, considering the fact the school only had one big pair of bullies). The person who had Stan’s arms pinned behind his back as he kicked and screamed was Henry, a large and disgusting smile spread across his ugly features. Alternatively, the one who had Bill against a wall as he stuttered and tried to find what to say with fear in his eyes was no one other than Patrick, the local fucking psychopath. 

Having no thought whatsoever for his own safety, Richie marched right up, hearing Stan scream his name loudly. Richie paid it no mind, grabbing Patrick’s shoulder and spinning him around. Bill immediately fell to the ground and Stan was released as well, both of the meatheads focuses on the small wimp in the middle. Stan grabbed Bill by the arm and dragged them both over to where Eddie was, watching his boyfriend with wide eyes full of fear. 

Thankfully, neither of the taller boys seemed to have any injuries aside from a few small scratches, but the glint of the knife gripped tightly in Patrick’s hand told Richie he may have had other intentions.

“What the fuck, Hockstetter?” He laughed, doing what he could do best - use comedy to deflect situations. “I knew you’re stupid, but were you actually planning on knifing one of us outside of the school? How fucking stupid would you have to be to think that you could get away with that? Or are you just too high right now to have any sense to you?”

Surprisingly, Patrick smiled softly at Richie. It was a cruel, demented smile - the one you would expect from a fucking murderer before he slits your throat and cuts your body into finely-minced pieces. 

“I see you never lose your sass, Tozier.” He twirled his knife in his fingers, and Richie could only imagine what images - what wishes - were running through that sickos mind. “Henry,” He tilted his head back, locking eyes with his accomplice. “Get the rest of them to class. I want a few minutes alone with Trashmouth, here.”

“Like shit!” Eddie screamed angrily, fists clenched tightly as he watched the exchange, anger burning in his eyes. “You really think we’ll leave like that?” 

Richie bit his lip as Henry approached his closest friends, and immediately stuttered out a “G-Guys! Just do it. Eddie, I-I’ll meet you in first period.”

“A-Are you f-fucking kidding m-me?” Bill yelled, looking just as angry. None of them wanted to leave Richie behind at all - god bless them. Richie found himself thankful for his friends a lot, but he didn’t want them to get their asses kicked because they refused to leave.

“Guys,” He said again, stronger this time. Patrick still had that sick smile on his face, watching the entire exchange going down and giggling softly to himself. “Just. Go. I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, the three retreated into the school, Eddie lingering for a moment and giving Richie begging eyes that killed him inside. In response, Rich flashed him a confident smile, desperate to comfort him. He wasn’t sure if it worked as Eddie turned and made his way into the school building.

As soon as all threats against his friends were gone, Richie turned all of his attention back towards the tall mouth breather in front of him. “The fuck do you want, asshole?”

“Henry.” Patrick said. He didn’t break his eye contact with Richie. “You go in too.”  
Henry’s eyes widened, clearly not used to being shoved out. “You serious, Hockstetter? Why the fuck-”

“Just do it.” Patrick’s voice was level and firm. He meant it, and he wasn’t afraid to punch Henry if he had to. This threat seemed to be taken seriously, as Richie watched Henry mumbled a few curses before dragging himself back into the school. 

“Okay, seriously.” Richie growled, eyes still locked in with patrick’s. He felt fer bubbling up from inside of him, but he would never admit that, and he made sure to keep his voice level and calm. “What the fuck are you doing to me that you didn’t even want your goon here to watch it?”

The next action happened quickly, and the smaller of the two males barely had any time to react at all. One moment he was standing there, staring up at the man, and the next, his collar had been grabbed and he was shoved against the brick wall behind them with as much force as possible. “I have a deal for you.” Patrick spoke sweetly, but his actions and the look of craze in his eyes was nothing like the sweetness Richie saw when he looked at eddie or one of his friends. It wasn’t genuine. 

“Why on earth would I, in my right mind, ever make a fucking deal with you?” Richie growled, refusing to let his voice shake at all. Patrick’s face was so close to his, all he could smell was the stench of copious amounts of cigarettes. 

“I see the way you look at Eddie.” Richie felt himself freeze slightly at the mention of the others name, and anger bubbling up slightly inside of him.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He spat towards the other, face twisted in anger and the need to punch someone - preferably the person in front of him - burning bright. “If you lay a fucking finger on him, Hockstetter, I swear to god-”

Patrick laughed. His hands fell to his sides, letting go of Richie. The boy could bolt now, make a b-line straight for the door and get the hell out of there, but something told him that was a bad decision. 

“If you follow through with my deal, nothing’s going to touch Eddie. Or any of your other friends, even. I’ve...always had an interest in you, Tozier. Out of your group of fag friends, you’re my favorite.”

“Gee, thanks. You tell that to every girl?” Richie spat, staring at the other with cold and unforgiving eyes. Patrick ignored him.

“I’ve been a bit stressed lately.” The crazed look in Hockstetter’s eyes only grew and multiplied with each word. “I need a distraction. A puppet that I can vent to and pull its strings whenever I want.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Richie asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wasn’t following a damn word from the other. He let out a soft gasp when Patrick moved forward suddenly, re-pinning his hands to the brick wall and leaning in closer than ever before.

“Kiss me, puppet.”

“W-What?!” Richie squeaked out, confused and shaky. He had no doubt the actual fear was shoving through in his eyes - in the situation he was in, the man in front of him could just whip out his knife whenever he so pleased and take care of Richie with a few quick slices. He was totally defenseless. 

“Do it.” Patrick was growling now, a full one-eighty from his attitude literal seconds ago. He looked angry - enraged, even. The last thing Richie wanted right now was for the other to be angry. “Or do you want me to go get Eddie and do it to him instead?”

Richie’s heart sank at the thought. The thought of small Eddie, his precious fucking boy, pressed against the wall and shaking in fear as this fucking muletted asshole did what he wanted with him. The thought made him even more nauseous than the thought of himself getting touched, so he leaned forward and smashed his lips against the others. 

The second their lips connected, Richie felt his stomach turn completely upside down and he was almost certain he was going to puke into Patrick’s mouth. The other was rough, immediately grabbing his chin and holding it as tightly as he could, forcing it into a certain position for easier access. He was rough, extremely rough - teeth clashing and tongues shoving. Richie was certain he tasted blood, but he wasn’t sure whose it was. 

His brain was working into overdrive, terror and fear not even coming close to describe what he was feeling. 

Kissing Patrick Hockstetter is absolutely nothing like kissing Eddie. Not even close. 

Patrick only pulled away when he needed air, smiling widely at Richie as the boy gasped and fell to his knees almost immediately. His entire body was shaking, and he flinched as the bully kneeled down in front of him. A hand fit under his chin, tilting it up so that Richie was forced to look Patrick dead in the eyes. A thumb pressed softly against his lip, Richie finding himself hissing in pain as he pressed against open skin. The blood he had tasted must have been his own.

Patrick leaned back with a couple of thick drops of richie’s blood sitting evenly on the pad of his finger. With a demented smile, he lifted his finger to his mouth and swiped his tongue over the area, humming happily.

All Richie could think was - ‘he’s so fucking sick’.

“That’s all for now, puppet.” Patrick patted the other's leg as if they were friends and then pushed himself up, grabbing his backpack and easily throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll be by your house later for a bit more fun. Remember - doing this keeps your little fag friends safe. I would recommend being there when I show up, hmm?”

All the shorter boy could do was nod.  
Richie watched him walk away as tears welled up in his eyes, looking down at his hands only to find a blurry mess. Tears dripped down onto the glass of his thickly-rimmed glasses, a soft and choked sob leaving him as he buried his head into his knees and wrapped his arms around them as if to protect himself. When he moved, his wrists ached, but nothing could equate to the sick feeling settling easily in his gut.

Eddie wasn’t paying attention at all as the teacher droned on through the maths lessons, eyes trained on the door with his eyebrows furrowed. With each passing second that Richie didn’t walk through the door, he felt his anxiety rise. Was his boyfriend okay? Fuck, what if Patrick had done something horrible, what if Richie wasn’t even going to walk through that door-

Just as the thoughts shot through his head at record speeds, the door creaked open, and Richie stepped inside. Eddie fought the urge to shoot up from his seat and charge his way over to his boyfriend. Instead, he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his injuries. 

Richie wasn’t as banged up as he expected him to be. That wasn’t to say that nothing was wrong with him - he definitely had a significantly cut lip, considering the blood that pooled over the wound and the way Richie kept dabbing at it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He also was cradling his left wrist, meaning that had probably gotten a bit banged up. As Richie approached the desk next to Eddie, the smaller of the two pulled off his fanny pack and immediately started to shuffle through it. 

Once the other was sat down, he handed him a tissue, frowning softly when he got a better look at Richie. Something was definitely wrong. Despite the fact Richie didn't seem to have many physical injuries, he looked...drained. He looked tired. His eyes were red and puffy as if he’d been crying, although he knew he would never get an honest answer if he asked Richie head on if he had been crying or not. His hair was tousled up, and he just seemed...stressed.

Eddie hated it. He wasn’t used to see his calm, composed and nerdy boyfriend coming apart at the seems, and it even further unsettled him to know that he had zero idea why this was happening. 

He reached over, placing his hand gently on Richie’s and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze to get his attention. Richie glanced up, smiling weakly at Eddie’s concerned looks.

This wasn’t good at all. Something was up. Eddie made a decision then and there, knowing that he would probably regret it later, but not finding it in himself to care. That happened a lot with Richie. All common sense and logical thinking flew out the window, replaced with that face everywhere. And Eddie couldn’t seem to control it in the damn slightest, either. 

He ripped a page out of his notebook, writing something in scribbly, illegible handwriting and waiting until the teacher was turned to the class to pass it to Richie. The taller boy immediately snatched the paper, unfolding it and looking down at it. 

‘After this class, we’ll skip if you want’

He let out a soft sigh and looked at his boyfriend, a wide smile on his face. God, he could never say that he wasn’t loved. 

He would never for a second understand why someone as amazing as Eddie would love Richie, but he would hold onto it for dear god. He took a pen out of his pencil case and scribbled his own response, only about a thousand times messier than that of his boyfriends, before handing it back.  
‘Thank you sm 4 the offer, but i’m fine, n ur mom would kill u. Lets just get thru this day’.

Eddie looked at the other, biting his lip before nodding. Richie considered it a success and leaned back in his chair, not paying attention to the board in front of him in the slightest. At one point, Eddie scooched his desk slightly closer to Richie’s, finding his hand and intertwining their fingers tightly.

All Richie could think about, though, was that night. What was going to happen that night. It made it even worse that Richie wasn’t even sure, but he knew he wasn’t gonna like it. 

The second the bell rang, Richie’s boyfriend was on top of him, tightly holding his hand and dragging him out of class. “What happened?!” He demanded, eyes grazing over the other. “are you hurt anywhere else? What did he say to you? Jesus fuck Richie, that was such a stupid thing to do-“

Richie smiled softly at the other and laughed, doing his British accent in a high pitched voice. “No need to worry, my dear! We had simply but a chat with tea! It was quite enjoyable!” He earned himself an eye roll in the process as Stan and Bill shot out from their classrooms on either sides of them, each one of the boys friends looking at him with worry and fright in their eyes.

Richie wasn’t sure he would be able to fight away the guilt in his voice when he had to lie to them. He knew for a fact his voice was shakey when he was talking to Eddie, and he deeply hoped the other wasn’t going to over-analyze it. 

“He just let you go?!” Stan asked, tugging on the other slightly and sweeping over his face with his eyes. He noted the others busted lip before Richie gently pushed him away, laughing and ruffling up his own hair.

“Why do none of you trust me? He left me alone.”

“It’s not t-that we don’t t-trust you R-R-Rich, it’s that it’s very unlike any of those kids to just l-let us go.” Bill frowned, earning a nod in agreement from Eddie. 

All Richie could supply in response was a shrug, a smile still on his lips. “I honestly think he was really high and just forgot what he was doing, because he just kinda...stumbled off after one punch.”

Eddie frowned and shook his head, but Richie couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe him, or just didn’t like what he was hearing. Or both. “That still...doesn’t sound like Henry.” He numbed. “We have to stay with Richie.” He addressed Stan and Bill, Richie rolling his eyes as the others immediately nodded in full agreement. “Patrick will be back to beat the shit out of you even just a little bit more.”

“Oh come on, Richie.” Stan turned to the other and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You know Henry and his gang will be back to get you. He doesn’t like letting shit go.” He winced at his own wording, hating the idea of Richie being in that situation.

“God.” Richie groaned, Bill snorting a soft laugh from next to him. He looked up from the ground to find that all three of them had their eyes trained on him, looking adorable concerned and protective. 

“I feel like I have three boyfriends.” Richie laughed softly, flinging an arm over eddies shoulders and leaning against him. He tried to ignore how sweaty his own palms were, and how he was shaking, despite trying not to. He realized there were a lot of things he was hoping the other just wouldn’t notice, but Eddie knew him, and it was a bad idea to coast on that. “Don’t worry guys! I’m sure I’ll be fine, at least for today. He’s high, remember? He probably forgot it ever happened. And he went home.”

Eddie frowned, but didn’t put it any further. All of the Losers dispersed, all going to different classes for the rest of the day, until they met up once more for lunch. As Richie walked each one of his best friends leave him, he noted how every single one of them shot him a concerned look over their shoulder before completely disappearing from his field of vision. Despite the fear that gripped his heart, he couldn’t help but smile.

Later that day, as they were leaving the school, Eddie pulled Richie aside with a hand on his elbow. The second they were out of the earshot of Bill and Stan, Eddie narrowed his eyes and looked at the other. 

“Come over to my house today.” He said. 

It sounded more like a demand than a question. The question made Richie freeze for a few seconds - what excuse could he come up with? How does he casually tell his boyfriend he can’t hang out when Richie has literally never been busy before? It’s not like his parents were home, and his natural intelligence made studying a useless task, so he never had anything to do anyways.

He leaned against the wall, a smooth smile on his face as he adjusted his big, thick glasses. “Not sure if i can, Eds. Your mom and me are planning to meet anyways, so I think I’m a bit bus-”

Eddie groaned and cradled his head in his hands, although Richie caught a quick peek at the small smile that was fighting to stay off of the smaller mans face. He felt a spark of pride. At least Eddie was smiling. 

“You idiot.” He sighed, removing his hands to show a perfectly stoic face once he had gotten his emotions under control. “You’re coming over.” He turned to walk over to their bikes, stopped only by Richie’s hand on his elbow this time. He stopped suddenly and turned, a look of confusion on his face. Richie suddenly felt like every spotlight was on him - he had to come up with some sort of excuse - and a good one, because Eddie was already suspicious of what was going on, quick. 

He opened his mouth before smiling shakily, letting his shoulders fall in a nonchalant way. 

“Sure, Eddie. You got it. I can’t stay much past seven, but yeah.” He figured that would be okay. If Patrick got there before seven, it would be a feat, considering the fact it was well known that Hockstetter went home to drink a bit after every day of school. He wouldn’t be over until at least after ten. That being said, Richie didn’t want to push his luck with this one. It was Eddie he would be messing with in doing that, not himself. 

Eddie’s eyebrows only furrowed further. “Seven?” He asked. “Why seven?”

Richie didn’t think, he just blurted out whatever came to mind. “Parents.”

The shorter of the twos eyes widened immediately and he turned his body around to fully face him, hands hanging limply by his side as a silence settled over the two before Eddie could find what to  
say.

“...Your parents are coming home tonight?” He asked. His voice was fragile. As if he thought he were about to break the other by speaking too loud. Richie hated it.

“...According to them.” he joked with a giggle, immediately stopping when he received a cold look from the other. 

“They’ve been gone for….four months now. When did they tell you they would be coming home tonight?”

“Yesterday.” Lying to Eddie felt wrong. It made his insides turn and it made him feel queasy. “They called yesterday.”

Eddie sighed softly, looking down at his feet. It wasn’t exactly a hidden fact that Richie’s parents weren’t home a lot. And when they were home, they were too busy searching for the bottom of a bottle than to ask their son how his day went. Richie’s parents coming home was a good and a bad thing - good because Richie could be reassured that they were alive, that he yet again escaped being an orphan because of some fucking drunk driving accident.  
Bad, because, well, the fights. The screaming, the bruises. All the bad things.

No one knew this better than Eddie. Before him and Richie were even dating, the taller of the two would sneak into his house during these types of times, not saying a word and just passing out on the ground. Sleeping on wood was better than sleeping amongst the thick odor of beer. Eddie always gave him a blanket, anyways.

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice snapped Richie back to reality. “That’s...that’s fine. Seven. I’ll bring you home at seven.”

Richie smiled softly at his boyfriend and shook his head, pushing up his glasses with one hand and reaching out with the other. “Eddie, we both know you don’t have to take me home-”

“I want to.” The others back was turned towards him, so Richie couldn’t see his expression. He could, however, note the way the smaller’s shoulders were hunched, and, despite the fact his hands were tightly gripping the handlebars of the bike, his head was turned completely downwards. 

Richie let his hand fall and decided not to push the issue. 

They rode home together in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. When they entered Eddie’s home, Richie noted the lack of his mother - she must be out. Where on earth that woman went, neither Eddie or Richie knew. Ever since Pennywise and, more importantly, Eddie finding out about the placebos, Eddie hadn’t been on speaking terms with his mom. She tried to reach out to him, but he blatantly ignored him and did as he wished. Learning that he wasn’t forced to listen to her was the best thing he had learned. 

They ended up just sitting in Eddie’s bed, alternating between kissing and Eddie leaning over a stack of flashcards, shifting through them furiously and skimming over them with his eyes. During these times, Richie would just watch him, a small smile on his face. He couldn’t hide his happiness when he was around the other, whether or not he liked that fact disregarded.

After a few hours of this, Eddie leaned back from where he was pressed against Richie’s lips, taking a quick glance at his clock and frowning. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbing Richie’s previously disregarded glasses and tilting the others face between gently slipping them into place. “It’s six fifty.” He mumbled, frowning as he looked at the other. “You...should go.” He seemed upset to be saying that, and it warmed Richie’s heart. He reached out, tilting the others head up and pressing one last, long kiss to his lips.

“I’ll call you later tonight, okay?” He promised, slipping himself out from under the other and onto his feet. “I promise. Like always.”

“LIke always.” Eddie nodded, frowning as he watched the other. Since Eddie’s mom had arrived home in the time they had been hanging out, Richie walked around to the window, throwing it open and swinging his body out. With only his head showing out of the small opening, he smiled at Eddie, blowing him one last kiss before beginning the trek home.

The entire time, he couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on him. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it anymore.

A general feeling of uneasiness had settled across all the members of the Losers Club since It had happened, that’s a fact. All seven kids would turn on a light instead of going somewhere dark, refuse to go near anything that looked scary, and, in general, be considerably more jumpy than before. Although Stan was hands-down the worst of the bunch, Richie had his moments, and stepping into his pitch black house was definitely one of them. He scrambled for the light, and once the main foyer was illuminated, he rushed around to every other room in the house and did the same. Something about the light brought him comfort, just like when he was a child ; being able to see what was going on around him made him feel safer. 

Sadly, however, that wasn’t really saying much right now. Richie settled on a cheap breakfast of the cereal he had found at the very back of his cupboard, pouring the stale pieces into a chipped bowl and using water instead of milk. He sat down on the couch in the main living room, always slightly uncomfortable in there due to the permanent stench of his moms wine stains. Today, however, he wasn’t even paying attention to that ; instead, his eyes were trained on the clock in front of him. 

Each new minute felt like torture. Time felt like it was crawling, but the thing he was waiting with held breath for never came. It was seven thirty, then eight, then nine, then ten, and for a few wishful minutes, Richie found himself wondering if Hockstetter forgot. Maybe he got too drunk, or maybe he just decided the entire endeavour wasn’t worth it and he would rather just beat Richie up in the morning. 

Richie would rather that. He understood his messed up that was, but it was very true. He would take getting beaten up in a heartbeat. At least he would be free from this torture of waiting. 

His hopes were shattered, however, when at ten thirteen, there was a loud knocking at the door. At first, Richie jumped, surprised and slightly scared to hear the noise. Placing the bowl down by his side with a soft thump, he rose to his feet, despising the way his hands shook and perspirated against his jeans. 

Just get it over with, he thought. Just pull open the door. It’s Patrick. It’s Patrick. You’re not gonna die, it’s Patrick, it’s Patrick-

Richie yanked open the front door, and the smell of booze slammed into him. He didn’t flinch, but the look on Hockstetters face did do a slight job of surprising him.  
Patrick was the definition of wasted. 

Richie knew the other drank - it was pretty common knowledge - but god, it looked like he had gotten his hands on every drip of alcohol the world had to offer. His head lolled to the side, and he immediately picked it back up, a loopy and drunk smile painting his features as he stumbled forward and into the house without saying a word to Richie. The smaller of the two just moved out of the way, not wanting to be collateral damage in the situation. Not as if he wouldn’t already be soon. With a soft creek, he closed the door, and silence fell over the two. 

I must be fucking crazy, he thought. I must be out of my fucking mind. I’m standing here, in my living room, with Patrick fucking Hockstetter, whose drunk as all hell, and I’m about to get maybe rape-

“Well?”

The question caught Richie off-guard, and his eyes shot up for a minute, staring at Hockstetter with a slightly open mouth. The look must have amused the taller, because he let out a cruel, slurred laugh. 

“I care here to get a service. I don’t know where to go, so lead me to your bathroom, beaver boy.”

Richie gulped. walking as slowly as possible, he inched his way up the steps, hating the way that patrick analyzed his house. it was as if he was memorizing the layout so he knew where to go when he came back. 

when he came back. richie wanted to be sick. he wasn’t going to do this once, but multiple times, and a burning hit guilt nestled it’s way right into his tummy. 

he pushed open the door to bed bedroom and stepped aside to let patrick in, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. the taller of the two glanced around his room, snorting with a snide laugh as he analyzed all the fallen posters and hand-me-down or thrifted clothing. 

“well, tozier.” he started, spinning around to face the other with his hands shoved into his pockets. “where do you want to start?”

richie opened his mouth, ready to beg and weasel his way out of this, when he heard the creaking of the door downstairs. both boys froze in their place and richie listened closely, his blood running cold. 

were his parents home? there was no way. he knew full well they weren’t coming home for quite a while. but the door downstairs had fully opened and developed into footsteps - someone was moving around downstairs. 

patrick moved faster than richie. in a moments time he had stepped forward, anger evident in his eyes. “i thought i specifically told you not to tell anyone.” he snarled, and richie stumbled his way to an answer. 

“i didn’t! i didn’t say anything, i don’t know whose in the house-“

“ruh-rich?” richie cursed as he heard bill call, the growing set of footsteps making their way up the stairs. bill wasn’t alone, either - judging from the amount of footsteps, it was probable the entire loser club had joined him in this excursion. “your duh-door is wide open. you okay?”

“i’m fine!” richie called, but his voice was shaking too much for it to be realistic. in a moments notice, patrick had snagged him from around the neck and thrown him against the wall, successfully cutting off all airflow to and from his lungs. the action caused a bang and a loud gasp of pain, and the steady footsteps of the losers immediately erupted into the slams of running feet as they approached the room. 

eddie was the first one he connected eyes with. “what the fuck?!” he yelled as the rest of the losers seemed to come to terms with what was in front of them. richie tozier, a loser, one of them, pressed against the wall by his throat by patrick hockstetter. richie clawed desperately at the hands, black spots beginning to form around his vision. 

“put him down!” mike was the first to find his voice, but didn’t dare come closer, terrified of the man in front of them. 

the demand only seemed to anger patrick even further. “i told him not to fucking tell you.” he hissed and tightened his fingers around the others neck, richie sputtering and rasping underneath him. he was lifted off the ground slightly, leaving his legs kicking desperately, connecting with nothing but the wall behind him. 

“he didn’t tell us anything!” eddie found his voice, praying the truth would calm the other down. “we were worried so we came over! let him down!”

“let him down!” bevs hands were clenched at her sides, and considering her track record, it didn’t a genius to know she was pretty close to snapping. bev can handle this, eddie told himself. richie will be safe. 

“the deals off.” patrick turned his attention back to richie, spitting into his pale face. “i’m gonna fucking torment your little friends. you shouldn’t have done this.”

“n-no-“ richie rasped out. “let ‘em go, let them-“ 

the next few moments went in slow motion. bev shot forward and closed her fists around the base of a lamp resting on richies bedside table. with a grunt and a huff, she hefted it up, and slammed it over patrick’s head. everyone fell silent as the shards of the lamp fell all over the ground, and patrick slowly slumped to the side, the hit rendering him unconscious for the time being. 

richie fell without the support. on the way down, he managed to crack his head against the wall behind him, leaving him in shock and with zero breath in his lungs. he sputtered, rolling to his side, one hand on his throat at the other on his skull. 

“rich!” eddie shot forward and kneeled down next to his boyfriend, rubbing the others back in what he hoped was a comforting pattern. “breath. fuck, are you ok?”

“why, look at this.” richie rasped out, the area around his neck completely red and raw and his voice sounding cracked and graveled. “usually these roles are reversed. i’m helping you-“ he coughed harshly - “breath normally.”

“shut the fuck up, einstein.” eddie snapped, but his hands continued their motion, coaxing the other back into what he considered normal breathing. “the fuck were you thinking? what was going on here?” he slipped his hands under the other and helped him sit up, desperately looking him over to make sure he was okay. “fuck, you’re alright, richie. we’re here. no ones gonna hurt you.”

“tried to protect you.”

“don’t!” eddie sputtered. “are you fucking insane? what if we hadn’t showed up? no one can handle patrick on their own and who knows what would’ve happened. are you fucking stupid?”

“a little.”

eddie huffed and collapsed forward, tugging the other into a desperate hug and cradling his head against his shoulder. he trailed his fingers over the back of the others skull, checking for bumps or any blood that would coat his fingers. there was definitely a lump, and probably a concussion, but no blood at first, and that made eddie visibly relax from his stress. if he noticed richies shoulders shaking slightly, he didn’t comment, and waited until it stopped to pull back. 

“where are your glasses?” he demanded, brushing the others shaggy hair out of his eyes in a rare act of affection. richie blushed slightly, but shrugged in response to the actual problem. 

“they fell off at some point. i can’t see shit, eds.”

“don’t call me that.” eddie was already on his hands and knees, along with the rest of the losers, shuffling through the dirty room to find the disregarded lenses. eventually, ben let out a triumphant cry, and eddie carefully slipped the frames onto richies face. 

all of the losers turned towards patrick as he let out a low groan of pain, hands cradling his bloodied head. “fuckin’ bitch.” he growled out as he peeled himself from the ground. 

“don’t cuh-call her that. and get the fuh-fuh-fuck out. it’s seven to one, and you’ve got no chance.”

“yeah!” stan chimed from behind bill, although making sure to stay behind the other as he spoke. “get the fuck out!”

all of the losers joined the chant as eddie squeezed richies hand tight, watching as, with some curses and a few grumbles, patrick limped his way out of the house. even he wasn’t stupid enough to try and fight seven heart-bounded teens with severe injuries to the noggin, and accepted the lose. 

“richie.” stan was the first to talk, his fists clenched at his sides. “never - NEVER - pull that shit again.”

“what was even happening?” mike demanded, and richie laughed awkwardly, fingers rubbing nervously at the developing bruises around his neck. 

“he, uh - told me if i could - give him something......he would leave you guys alone. to be fair, he didn’t give me much of a choice, but i did...agree.”

“what did you agree to give him?” eddie asked with furrowed eyebrows, and richie coughed awkwardly in response. 

“well, eds my boy, perhaps we ain’t the only queers in the county!”

“holy shit.” bevs hands fell by her side as the rest of them took in the information with wide eyes and slacked jaws. 

“you’re kidding.” ben said, and richie shook his head. 

“unfortunately not, benny boy! and it seems now that he, uh- is convinced i told you guys - things may get a lil’ worse. uh....sorry about that.”

“you fucking idiot.” eddie whispered, still sitting next to the other, his shoulders slack and his face painting nothing but shock. “thank...thank god we came- richie, oh my fucking god, don’t - tell us next time, don’t let this shit-“

“i know.” richie muttered, reaching up to wipe at a stubborn smudge on his glasses. “i’m sorry. i didn’t want you guys to get hurt.”

“fuh-fuck that!” bill cried, hands entangled in his hair. “this could’ve been suh-serious, rich!”

“we’re all recovering from a killer clown.” bev mumbled, speaking softer and gentler than the rest. richie realized with a sinking heart that that may be because she could relate to this more, and understood the turmoil in richie. “you don’t need more trauma on top of that.”

“dont worry guys. i would’ve obviously fought him off with my macho muscles before he could do anything.“ richie coughed. he hated all these eyes on him. he hated all this pity. he didn’t want his friends to feel pressured into feeling bad for him, into feeling guilty.

eddie rolled his eyes. “sure you would’ve. your whole 130 pounds would’ve done a great job at that.”

richie giggled softly, rushing to wipe away the snot under his nose that was left from his tears. eddie groaned and flinched away in disgust, but richie turned to the rest of his friends. 

“i’m really ok, guys. once you all leave i’ll lock the doors and all the windows so he can’t get back in if he’s that stupid. but you’ll all get in trouble if you stay much longer, so you really should leave.”

“are you sure?” bill asked, and bev joined next to him. 

“that sounds dangerous. we can stay if you want.”

“you guys can go home if you want.” eddie spoke up. “i’m gonna stay the night.”

“you don’t have to-“

“shut it, trashmouth. of course i’m staying.” eddie stood up and helped richie to of course, frowning with worry when he swayed slightly on his feet. “you really hit your head.” he remarked with concern, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder. “are you ok?”

“uh-“ richie stumbled forward slightly and all the losers held their breath, watching eddie desperately reach out to hold him steady. “everything’s...spinning a little.”

he began to fall, but both eddies arms around his shoulders and mike’s arms around his middle slowed his descent. thanks to them, he fell rather gracefully to the ground, letting out a groan as he was forced to stare into the glaringly bright lights above him. 

“richie!” eddie called to him, and rich struggled to turn his head to meet the others eyes. “are you okay?” eddies fingers desperately retrailed the others skull, looking for wounds he had missed before, and found it when a sticky wetness coated his fingers. he pulled his hand back to find his fingers covered in blood - richies blood, leaking out of his head in a perfectly doorknob-shaped lump. 

“fuck.” richie winced, squeezing his eyes closed. “didn’t realize it when i was sitting down but the room is...really spinning.”

“you’re okay.” eddie tried to be the voice of reason as bev and ben scrambled out of the room, determining that they should probably call someone about this. richie weakly protested, reaching out a hand to stop them, but his fingers were promptly intertwined with eddies. 

“eds.” he huffed out, looking up at the other with slightly tearful eyes. “this isn’t bad. i’ll be fine.”

“we should have you checked.” eddie argued, running his fingers through the front side of the others head. “heads bleed a lot but i’m not willing to take any risks with you.”

“i can’t afford it.” richie choked out. “they’ll kill me when they get billed for this.”

“then you can stay with bill, or stan, or bev and her aunt, and get the fuck out of here.” eddie was keeping his voice level and loving, determined to calm down the other. he didn’t see richie cry often, but when he did, it absolutely shattered his heart. “we’ll get you out of this, rich. don’t worry.”

richie let his head fall back slightly as an overwhelming ache consumed him from head to toe. the concussion he had sustained was getting worse by the moment and everything was just a little bit too overwhelming. 

“i’m sorry.” was all he could find to say, but eddie shook his head and shushed him all over again, fingers cupping the back of the others neck. 

“nothing to be sorry for.” eddie whispered. “i’m not gonna let something like this happen to you again. i-i know i’m pretty weak, but i swear i’ll be strong and protect you. i promise.” 

richie chuckled and nodded, less about not believing the other and more about not really having the energy to respond. he trusted him wholeheartedly, and with everything in him. “i love you.” he murmured, and eddie responded to the gesture with a kiss on the forehead.

“you too, idiot.” he whispered, squeezing the others hand as tightly as possible. “don’t fall asleep with a concussion. the paramedics will be here soon and check you out and bandage you.”

richie grinned up at him. and, later that night, when they were intertwined in bed, eddie staying overnight with the rest of the losers heading home, he pressed his head into the others chest. ignoring the awkward height difference, and the ache in his head around his bandages, he knew, without a doubt, that he would do any of that shit again to protect eddie. 

and eddie would do absolutely anything to protect richie.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not?? the biggest fan of this and there’s a chance i may go back and edit it at some point. at this point, i’ve been editing it and writing it for over a week and since i spent a good amount of time on it, it feels wrong to let it rot in my drafts. 
> 
> regardless, i hope you enjoyed! i literally can’t stop writing hurt richie it’s becoming a problem


End file.
